


Welcome to the Piffling Coroner's Office

by sunshinekat



Category: Wooden Overcoats (Podcast)
Genre: Cop AU, Criminology AU, Eric is a Simp, FBI AU, M/M, all of these chapters take place with a corpse in the room., and there's rudyard repressing himself, antigone married the grumpiest doctor known to man, eric is that dashing action hero type FBI agent, it's really not healthy, rudyard is working at a medical examiners office, rudyard's office is also where the bodies are examined, there's cake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:46:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28531671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinekat/pseuds/sunshinekat
Summary: Let's play pretend, Rudyard is a grumpy medical examiner at the Piffling Coroner's Office, Georgie is his lab assistant, oh and Antigone went and got herself married! Then we'll pretend that Eric can stand the sight of blood and is the superstar of the Piffling Branch of the FBI. Then there is cake, and confessions, and bodies.
Relationships: Dr. Henry Edgware/Antigone Funn, Eric Chapman/Rudyard Funn
Comments: 11
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

A/N i dont write medical dramas. pretty sure you can't share your office with a corpse but that's what happened. Also, pretty sure Eric is a simp, and henry x antigone is a delightful rarepair. 

It was another Wednesday, Madeline knew this not just because she could see the calendar from where her enclosure sat on Rudyard Funn’s desk, but also because Rudyard was using his Wednesday lab coat. He had them labeled on the collar, and different from all the other coats he owned; Wednesday had a coffee stain on the lower right side, far down enough that nobody noticed it. 

As he looked over the body laid out before him sighed and checked his clipboard, placing iit down on the small metal table at his left, he clicked something on his watch and turned to the right to pick up his tape recorder. 

“Doctor Rudyard Funn recording, it is approximately 9:15 AM on Wednesday the 12th, April 2019. Initial autopsy of stabbing victim Petunia Bloom.” His voice is low, confident, he always liked sounding confident during his recordings. He’d told Madeline this many times, he often listened to them to make sure they weren’t wrong, made transcripts in case he needed to record again. 

He would spend about two hours on the autopsy, the Do Not Disturb sign would ensure nobody walked in and ruined his recording. Rudyard hated being interrupted, and not just at work, at home too. The difference here was that at home he could just ignore the knocking on the door. In the office he would have to endure the visitors, they varied from police officers, and sometimes the family of the deceased coming to identify the body. 

Other times it was a personal visit from Antigone, his sister who worked at the local court and came by to make sure he was eating and taking care of himself, giving him an estranged pat on the shoulder before leaving shortly after. Those visits were quiet some days, and loud arguments on others. Antigone had married a doctor after she closed down the family funeral home. It was a sore spot between them, but she had married a doctor, found a new job and was doing well for herself. However, embalming still fascinated her and she was still receiving royalties from her scented embalming fluid products, there were even such occasions where she was called upon to use her skills on a freelance basis.. In short, you can take the Funn out of the funeral home, but you can’t take the funeral home out of the Funn. 

She had asked Rudyard to come home many different times, insisting that if living on his own with his pet mouse was too lonely for him that her and Henry would accept him in their home, he was always welcome. 

Ah, well, the arguing didn’t come from only Antigone, it also came from Rudyard. He had always been a bitter, unfriendly man, Madeline had heard how much others disliked him from her time in the lab, had almost thought the same but then he fed her a small snack once, and when he found out that she’d been signed off to go to another lab where they would use her for testing he purchased her. From that moment Madeline knew that Rudyard Funn, for all his bluster, was actually a kindhearted man. 

Yet he argued with Antigone, over everything. She would visit rarely these days, and whenever she showed up Madeline saw the tension tighten his shoulders, his dark eyes narrow and his posture straighten, the clicking of her heels made his right eyebrow twitch. 

No, he wasn’t moving in with her and her husband. 

Antigone found one and a million common sense reasons for him to move out of his apartment. In the end he refused every single one of them. 

Madeline had often wondered why he insisted so fiercely on not moving out of his apartment, it was cold in there all the time, his clothes splayed everywhere, the lock on the window by his bed was broken and there was no hot water. 

He had never given her the reason, never trusted her with that small truth. 

Until one winter day he blurted it out, Antigone was inviting him to stay over for the holiday and Rudyard, with his fists clenched at his sides, and his cheeks flushed with fury, “I’m not going to sit at that table and watch you shove your happy marriage in my face Antigone!” he snarled. 

Madeline knew that Antigone had not meant it that way, she had never pushed for him to marry or even become part of a couple. Her expression of shock and hurt was hard to watch. The silence had been dense, and for a moment Madeline had worried that Rudyard was going to leave it like that. The bond of twins, the bond of siblings broken and irreparable. 

Rudyard’s face still burning, he shook his head and apologized, laying his hand on her arm gently, she inhaled shakily and nodded. He stayed where he was and then took the few steps forward to hug her. 

In the end, he’d stayed with her for three days before going back to his cold apartment. 

Rudyard’s relationships were all like this, tenuous, delicate, always one argument away from snapping.

Antigone wasn’t the only one who came to visit the Piffling Coroner's office, Georgie Crusoe started as a lab cleaner, and somehow through the wonders of paperwork and connections had been promoted to lab assistant. 

Work that mostly kept her in the samples room, as she evaluated all the items being sent to the labs where there was more up to date equipment. She would come in sometimes, chat away to Rudyard about her day, ask about his own. Madeline wondered at first if she was someone who could be the other part of this theoretical couple Rudyard refused, but he treated her the same way he treated his sister, even worse, he put her to work, always barking orders and making childish demands of her like one would a servant.

There was a small difference to Georgie, she had been with him since she came to identify her nana’s body after she lost her life during a hit and run. Rudyard had performed the examination, and the killer was caught and placed on trial and imprisoned. Georgie came back to the office and asked for a job, Rudyard had no cause to reject her, he had the budget, but nobody from head office wanted to deal with him. So he hired her, and it was only later that they found out she was taking criminology classes and specializing in handling evidence. 

She had worked hard to put herself where she was currently, and when Rudyard crossed the line he got back just the same, Georgie never sat and took his treatment after she made lab assistant. Rudyard was clearly comfortable with that, he’d told Madeline that he much preferred working with her than with anyone the office had sent in the past. 

However, not every relationship was as tenuous,and more recently, one in particular did not even have a thread to pull, as Rudyard often complained, it was entirely one-sided and ridiculous. 

The newest addition to his bubble of relationships was one Eric Chapman.

Madeline enjoyed when he came to visit because he always brought gifts. He brought coffee and cakes, or sweets, and he always took time to bring Madeline something to snack on, his pretty blue eyes and lovely smile even better up close. Georgie found him exhausting, sometimes poking her head in to warn Rudyard, “Your best friend is here to see you.” she’d say it in such a morose tone. However, worse than her reaction was Rudyard’s. 

Worse than any reaction he had to anyone else who visited the office, his posture was always stiff, stiff enough that he looked like he would topple over like a bowling pin, his face which was usually so expressive would lock into this unwavering mask of misery. Like he had just tasted something awful. 

That is the face that greeted Eric Chapman now as he entered with no warning. 

“Rudyard!” he greeted with a bright smile, accompanied by the sound of plastic and paper bags. He was taller, about three inches on Rudyard, wavy blonde hair and startling blue eyes. Usually he was in a suit, but then again, it was Wednesday so he was often stuck in the office and his sleeves were rolled up with his muscular forearms showing. He walked around Rudyard and dropped what looked like a box of small cupcakes and a cup holder with three cups of hot coffee, one for Georgie, one for himself and one for Rudyard. 

“Came by to see how Miss Petunia is doing.” Eric says, he walked over to Madeline’s cage, “Hey there Maddie, brought you something sweet.” he says, he opens the lid of the enclosure and carefully places half a donut on the small plate which sat on a miniature table in the intricately built mouse dining room Rudyard had built for her. 

Madeline squeaks in delight, his breath smelled like mint and something sweet. She watches as he turns and leans his hip against Rudyard’s desk. She can’t see Rudyard from here, only the back of Eric’s head, and his halo of lovely blond hair. 

“Where’s Georgie?” Came Rudyard’s voice, words stiff with barely managed discontent. 

“She’s on a smoke break, she’ll be joining us shortly, she loves the coffee from here.” 

Eric’s smiling, Madeline can tell. Ah, what a lovely man. 

“I’ll make sure she gets it, you can leave now.” 

“I would, but I can’t until you give me your evaluation.” Eric was always so nice, very different to the other police officers and federal agents who visited the office. Eric Chapman was a senior detective in the FBI he didn’t even have to come out here he could send others in his place and yet he always did and he always brought gifts. Madeline couldn’t make heads or tails of why Rudyard disliked him so much. 

“I would but you’ve ruined my recording Chapman.” Rudyard bites out, “Listen, just go and I’ll send you the report before the end of the day. We do have email you don’t need to keep coming out here in person.” 

Eric put down his coffee and opened the small paper bag containing the cupcakes, he brought one up, “That’s perfect, I’ll do just that.” 

There was a relieved sigh, “Thank you, now if you don’t mind-” 

“Well, the recording is ruined anyway, I’m on my break right now and I still have another ten minutes, why don’t you come and have a cupcake.” Madeline sees him tilting the pink frothy cupcake in a teasing manner, “Come on, they’re fresh. I brought the ones you like.” 

“Honestly, Chapman.” Rudyard sighs, “I’m not going to eat your damn cupcake now get out!” 

“I won’t leave until you give me the report then.” he says, “So go on, do your thing and I'll be quiet I promise.”

Madeline wished she could see Rudyard’s face, nobody could get under his skin like Eric Chapman. 

There was the sound of Rudyard walking to his desk, the snap of his clear gloves being taken off and Madeline finally saw his face, the furrow in his brow, dark hair swinging in front of his eyes, his cheeks pink as he reached out to snatch a cupcake from the box before it was suddenly dragged away out of his reach, “I’m sure you’re not going to just touch it with those dirty hands,” Eric says with a teasing tone. 

“I was wearing gloves Chapman.” 

“Those are only partially effective, go on wash them or…” he tilts the cupcake in his fingers forward, “Say ah…” 

Rudyard gave Eric the most scandalized look before he turned and went to the sink by the desk and washed his hands for two minutes. The tips of his ears poking out from his hair were pink. He dried his hands and returned to the desk picking up one of the cupcakes Eric hadn’t touched and bit into it, he looked ready to say something insulting but then his face changed and he chewed slowly, making a small sound of approval. Eric watched in silence as he popped the tip of one cream smeared finger into his mouth to suck off the frosting, blissfully unaware of how Eric hadn’t even touched his cupcake and was just watching him quietly. 

“Say...Rudyard-” he starts.

“Coffee!” Georgie Crusoe barged in, an unopened box tucked under one arm. Rudyard glanced at her and Eric turned his head, “Georgie!” he says with a smile in his voice. 

“Oh hi boring tinder date!” Georgie says with a sneer in hers, she turns to Rudyard who is having his second cupcake, “Those disposable gloves you ordered finally arrived.” 

“Can you not call me that please?” Eric asks with a smile, as she puts the box down onto Rudyard’s desk, she picks up her coffee and takes a delicate sip, “Mhmmm…” she glances at him, “No.” she takes one of the tiny cupcakes out of Rudyard’s hand, “I’ll just take this.” 

“Georgie!” Rudyard gasps, his expression of distraught was really quiet sweet, it did something lovely to his eyes. The door closed behind her and Madeline watched while eating her own delicious treat as both men reached for the final cupcake, fingers colliding, Eric’s expression of surprise, Rudyard’s hand retreats as if he’d been burned, “Chapman you-” his mouth tightens into a thin line, “Are you done?” under his hair Madeline can see the telltale pinkening of his cheeks. 

“We could share,” Eric says, “they are such good cupcakes.” 

“I’ve had enough actually.” Rudyard says, always so stubborn. 

Eric stands up, dusts himself off of invisible crumbs, and takes a deep breath, Madeline feels her little heart being to pound. It was time. 

For the thirtieth time since they met, Eric Chapman was going to do it again. 

“Say...Rudyard…” 

Rudyard’s expression becomes panicked, his eyes looking everywhere but at Eric. he lifts his hands, “No, listen you always do this don’t-” 

“There’s this new restaurant by the park, it’s got a crazy menu, and I thought maybe you’d like to-” 

“No!” Rudyard snaps, “Chapman no! I won’t go to dinner with you! Get out!” 

“Have a bite to eat with me.” Eric finally finished, his voice held a twinge of disappointment, but his bearing was still as confident as ever. 

“Get out.” Rudyard snapped, his face was red and may have been warm to the touch. 

“Alright, I know when I’ve lost.” Eric says, and he starts to walk toward the door. 

“If you knew that you would stop asking!” Rudyard hisses. 

Eric Chapman just laughs as he opens the door, “Enjoy yourself, Rudyard.” 

Rudyard throws the cupcakes across the room when it closes, the buttercream frosting smearing over the clean metal surface. 

It’s quiet and Madeline watches as he dumps the coffee into the sink and throws the entire bag of the remaining snacks into the trash can, “Always so many damn napkins!” he mutters, “Damn that Chapman…”

Madeline had evaluated every person that Rudyard had spoken to, that had any connection with him be it friendly or otherwise. He only reacted like this with Eric Chapman, a mix of confusion, anger and...well, denial. She knew something was there, it was the thing that he hated about Antigone’s marriage, the thing she’d witnessed during the Christmas season. Henry, Antigone’s husband was a sarcastic, miserable man, and Antigone was panicky and strange. Yet both Rudyard and herself had witnessed how they interacted with each other, how Antigone would gaze at him sometimes when he had his back turned, and how Henry restrained his waspish nature when it came to her. Arguments about small things gave way to lingering touches, a fleeting kiss and Rudyard always found somewhere else to be, ears burning, envy making the green in his eyes murky. 

Madeline knew that if he let himself, he could have that with Eric Chapman. 

To take a step back, pull away from the misery of his solitary life and give Eric the chance he was begging for.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Absence makes the heart grow fonder, or in Rudyard's case, inconvenienced.

A/N in which Rudyard doesn't care at all that Eric isn't around, Eric takes compliments very well and there's more cake. 

Corpses proved to Rudyard on a regular basis that they were much preferable to the denizens of Piffling: they don’t talk incessantly about unimportant drivel, they don’t spread rumors about him saying he doesn’t wash his hair and that he has no friends. Corpses also, thankfully, never asked him out for dinner to the point of being an irritation. 

On the subject of corpses, Petunia Bloom died of an accidental stabbing after falling on her husband’s knife collection, her body didn’t put up a fight, wasn’t being deceitful or rude, it just let Rudyard peel away it’s secrets. Household accidents happen all the time. While her husband had set an appointment to submit her life insurance claim; Petunia’s body was scheduled for cremation, the final communication between husband and wife was clear. Her body had left nothing to wonder about. Ultimately she’d died of suffocation, her lungs and throat filled with blood until she couldn’t breathe. The courts would do what they needed to with the information in the report, his job was done. 

Strangely enough, the satisfaction of a job well done, was the news of the court emailing Chapman’s office and requesting the presence and testimony of the officer who investigated the crime scene. This resulted in him being sent off to a court far enough away that he hadn’t been darkening Rudyard’s door for about a week now. 

Chapman’s absence had Rudyard singing hymns, he even bought Madeline a small present, a new hand sewn blanket for her little bed. She squeaked in approval when he placed it on her bed with the assistance of a pair of tweezers. 

Of course Rudyard preferred the company of corpses to that of people, but like Antigone had found her Henry, Rudyard found Georgie just barely tolerable. She never listened to him, was always interrupting him when she wasn’t needed, but...well, she brought him coffee sometimes. That alone was enough. The corpses wouldn’t bring him coffee, especially the type that was more cream and milk than the actual brew. 

Today she brought him a fresh cup, forcing him to take a break from perusing the insides of a car accident victim. For now, they were waiting on the bloodwork to determine if he’d been inebriated when the accident happened. 

He found himself leaning against his desk sipping at his coffee as Georgie caught him up with the goings on around them. 

“-in the spring, we’re both invited by the way. You know Nigel wouldn’t forget you and Tigone, her invites in an email though. Don’t know why they thought they were being sneaky. Rumors ‘bout those two have been going around town for years, always at the pub, at the restaurant, and there was that thing on Chapman’s yacht two years ago,” she takes in a breath, “You know there’s a...” she takes a sip of her glass and eyes him carefully, “Say, you look chipper, what’s got you all bright eyed?” 

“Hmm,” Rudyard says, “There’s nothing going on.” He sipped his coffee, his brow twitching at her steely gaze as she stared at him in silence, like a cat watching their owner on the toilet. Sure enough he couldn’t hold it in any longer, “It’s been a peaceful few days, I’ve gotten a lot of work done.” he takes one look at her and sees that smirk on her lip and turns his face away. She was insufferable. 

“Ah…” she nods, “Right...your darling hasn’t had time to come by, bet he can’t get out of the office without one of those rookies throwing themselves at his feet.” 

“He’s in town?” Rudyard asks, not that he cares- only...he wasn’t supposed to be in the town at all. The court was in another district and- and nothing, it was foolish to even be thinking about this right now. 

“Yeah he’s in town.” She continues, finishing her drink, “Stupid git came back early from court a damn hero, something about old Petunia’s life insurance claim. “

“But he was meant to be gone a week.” Rudyard says, Chapman was in town this whole time, doing what? It’s been five days and he was walking a red carpet through town like a local celebrity no doubt. 

“Some new evidence surfaced, case was open and shut in a day, he came back on tuesday.” she tosses her empty cup toward the garbage can and it lands soundlessly inside, “Nice!” she glances at Rudyard who was glowering at his coffee like it had done something offensive to him, “They sent emails to the whole department involved, I thought you knew.” she pats his shoulder, “Anyway, he’ll be busy for some time, so you’ll have a lot of time to yourself. Word going around says he’s got a drawer full of invitations, and an email inbox full of...well, you know.” she sniggers as she walks to the door. 

Invitations? Well, it’s not like Chapman was anything less than perfect, no doubt other people would be interested in him. 

Georgie laughed, “Little do they know the truth that you and I know.” she has her hand on the knob and looks at Rudyard over her shoulder, “Eric Chapman is a prat, and a boring one at that.” she smirks at him, “Good thing they don’t know how much he comes around here or they’d be jealous.” 

When the door closed Rudyard dumped the remainder of his coffee in the sink, watched the liquid swirl down the drain and tossed the plastic cup. The second his mind started to form questions around Chapman he immediately went back to work. He focused on processing the body, autopsies typically took him around six hours depending on what he was looking for. With the blood work still pending he could finish indexing the remainder of the body. The recording started, and he tried to lose himself into his work. 

It took his brain about an hour and a half to mess it all up for him. “Liver weighs about 6 chapman-...agh damn it!” The liver landed into the metal bowl with a heavy splat as Rudyard turned and snatched up the tape recorder, he turned it off and stared at it, stained with old blood and viscera, he’d have to get another one. Just one more thing to thank Eric Chapman for. 

Damn it all. 

He could just see it in his mind’s eye, all those women and men fawning over Chapman, approaching him like he was some kind of pastry they wanted to eat up. Then there was Chapman probably looking like he always did, perfect with his ridiculous hair and his blue eyes and his gorgeous smile and gleaming white teeth. 

He hadn’t been perfect the first time they met. Chapman had been all grim faced and serious, worn little notepad in his hand, blond hair combed and his black coat giving him an air of authority. 

Chapman had introduced himself with a brief handshake and let Rudyard lead him to victim's body, she’d been found naked and covered in dirt and mud thirty feet off the highway, her dark hair sticking to her pale skin from the rain. 

It was like one of those serials on television, the sound of rain, the sweet tang of rotting flesh, and the clear, startling blue of Eric Chapman’s eyes. 

“New to the district, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.” he’d said, voice partially drowned out by the downpour. 

They did during the investigation initially. Eric was always stern, always serious, always wearing that ridiculous trench coat. 

Rudyard found himself jumping to his feet as Eric’s visits became more frequent, and then he started bringing coffee and leaving the trenchcoat in the cruiser. 

The killer was found, the body of Annelise Smith cremated and Rudyard saw Eric and Georgie kiss in the parking lot. 

Ah, of course, that’s what it was. Bring the boss some gift to get close to the plucky lab assistant. It was normal, it was expected. Anything else that might have entered his mind was utterly ridiculous. 

Then Georgie filled him in on that too, she laughed when she told him how Eric told her he loved her using some ridiculous line from a book she’d never read, that he was a try-hard and a git. She labelled him her most boring tinder date and the name stuck. 

Yet he still stopped by, after the break up he’d stayed away for a few days, but then one day Georgie barged into the autopsy room and shoved Eric and his purchases inside, “I’ve got work you useless prick!” she snapped and slammed the door. 

And now, somewhere in the office, was a discarded tape with recorded audio of Eric Chapman nervously offering Rudyard some coffee and cake, Rudyard politely accepting and Eric Chapman asking him out to dinner. The tape cut off obviously, from the damage caused when Rudyard chucked it at Chapman’s head. 

After all, it was absurd, offensive even. How could Eric Chapman, who had seemed so stern and so serious turn out to be so pathetic? It was the great and hidden truth, because despite the fact that Eric Chapman was a git and a sappy romantic, with an obvious delusional need to ask Rudyard out on a date, his reputation at the bureau was completely the opposite. 

He was like Piffling’s own action hero, a stunning amount of solved cases, heart pounding escapes and mind boggling investigations. All of it wrapped in a package that had the public’s heart soaring with his pretty face and hair. 

Rudyard found him ridiculous, and had told him so on various occasions. Yet he continued to visit, always in a sunny mood asking him about Madeline and listening intently when Rudyard answered him which always set Rudyard off, he was used to being talked over by other people or ignored altogether, but Chapman had to ruin it by making it seem like every letter coming out of Rudyard’s mouth was something of extreme importance. 

Sometimes, when Rudyard allowed himself, he thought they might have been friendly, but these visits always and without fail, involved Chapman’s irritating habit of asking him to dinner which was impossible. Why someone like him wanted Rudyard’s company even in the presence of a corpse was mind-boggling to Rudyard, that he wanted to see him outside of the office felt like a trap, some kind of dastardly plan to humiliate him. 

Then Antigone asked him to go home for Christmas, and he was going at first when she asked if he was bringing anyone along. That started an ugly fight, she was never pressuring him to have a relationship but she wanted him to know that things could be better, different than what he currently had. 

Which of course meant that she thought he wasn’t living a good enough life. 

He still regret hurting her with words the way he had, regretting his outburst which had exploded from him without a thought. He blamed Eric Chapman for that, for constantly asking him out to dinner, pressuring him to eat, always smiling, and lingering and watching him. Always- always always! Clearly he wasn’t genuine! It was all some sort of ploy or a joke, maybe he was getting back at Georgie- but either way there was no way he was serious. 

All in all, Rudyard was happy to be left alone. He wasn’t angry about Eric Chapman being popular in his office, or with other people. 

In fact, he wasn’t angry about Eric Chapman only being gone for a day and actually being in town for the whole week. 

He wasn’t even angry about him not visiting one during the week to give him his damn coffee and cake! 

Rudyard felt heat rising in his cheeks, he was still holding the dirty tape recorder, he lost track of time. 

He turns his wrist to check the time, he walks to the sink and drops the recorder in the trashcan, and as he peels off his gloves and starts to wash his hands like seeing rainfall from a distance his mind is flooded again. 

It’s Harassment. He thinks, his mouth tightening in a line, clearly, his constant visits, offering treats, it was harassment. He had no right to come into Rudyard’s life and give him coffee or donuts or cake or biscuits, or those tiny cupcakes that tasted so sweet and delicious...he had no right! 

Well, perhaps harassment was too harsh a word? He knew what harassment was, knew how helpless it made him feel, Chapman never made him feel like that, and never forced the issue either- it just...he...all of this was just...

Rudyard’s thoughts are interrupted by a loud, cheerful laugh. There were voices outside the door, the doorknob to his office shook and Rudyard splashed some water on his face, anything to not look like he felt, his eyes burned and his face felt warm, he was probably pink as a tomato, agh, damn him why did this always have to happen at-

“Rudyard!” the door opened with that jolly tone and the tell tale sound of paper and plastic. 

“How nice to see you!”

The clack of office shoes on the cold tile floor echoed in the silence of his office, the water on Rudyard’s face was cold, his fingers almost numb. 

It was harassment, surely what he felt was panic, this discomfort was not a good thing, it was awful-it was awful. 

“Been a long week I’ll tell you that.” Chapman is saying, the sound of him settling his gifts on the surface of his desk, “Ah, don’t think i forgot you Maddie.” 

He wasn’t allowed to give Madeline a nickname! And yet the little traitor squeaked in pleasure as he dropped whatever little gift into her enclosure. Always careful, placing the treat on her miniature dining table.

“One hell of a court case, it was on television you know, I've been in interviews all week. Missed the quiet of your office really.” 

Rudyard was going to tell him to leave, and today he would listen, he would listen and all this confusion Rudyard was feeling would go away. “Get out…” his own voice is soft, barely audible to his own ears. 

“Are you done washing up? These brownies are fresh, they’ll get all stiff if you let them get cold.” 

“Get out.” Rudyard says again, there’s a slight shake to his voice, shit! shit! shit! 

“Aw, but we haven’t started…” he trails off, Rudyard stiffens, his heart pounding in his ears and it’s too fast for him to conceive, he hears the click of Chapman’s shoes and the next moment he’s being turned around, “Are you alright, Rudyard?” 

It was just a week, five days, wasn’t even that long at all. Best five days he’d had in months since this mess started but now he was so close Rudyard could smell his cologne, see his face, his eyes, his hair, hear his voice all at once in a barrage of sensory overload. 

“Why are you throwing me out?” he asks, he carefully guides Rudyard to his desk, “Is everything okay? Come on, have a brownie, Georgie told me you had coffee already so I swapped it for chocolate, extra milk, come on…” his touch is fleeting, his hands leave Rudyard’s arms as he accepts the offered cup. He’ll say it again, just after a bit of chocolate, and it’s warm and so sweet melting away the nervousness- no, no he wasn’t nervous, his harasser had come to torment him. 

Chapman smiled slightly, he opened the small red box of brownies, slid the tin out and scooped a slice out with one of the plastic spoons, “Try these, they’re a new part of the menu I thought you’d like it.” 

He does, putting down the cup of hot chocolate he takes the spoon and eats, it’s wonderful, warm and creamy, he swallows it down along with any thoughts in his head. It’s just Eric Chapman and chocolate. 

“So as I was saying…” Eric says sipping from his own chocolate, “Long week, been meaning to come out here and see you, office is buzzing about that case so boss had me going back and forth from news station to news station.” He smiled sheepishly, a hint of his dimples showing, his eyes were like tiny oceans, smudged with a green that was lighter than the swampy depths of Rudyard’s. “I just wanted to leave and come here, I've gotten used to coming here, having a snack with you, best part of my day really. You’re wonderful company Rudyard.” 

“No I’m not.” Rudyard mutters, the startled look on Chapman’s face is enough for him to look away, “I know what they say about me, don’t think you’ll change that.” 

“Well...I don’t know about anyone else, but there’s nobody else I’d rather be here with, you’re a professional Rudyard, always so dedicated and you don’t let anything distract you and even when I’m being...well, I know I can be annoying to you sometimes you still let me in, still share these treats with me and I really treasure that. You know nobody in the office even knows I like chocolate, they all think I just drink protein smoothies-”

Well, with a body like his who wouldn’t? He certainly looked like all he drank were protein smoothies. 

“Er...what was that?” 

Shit he said that out loud? Rudyard put the cup down, “Nothing… are you done here?” 

“No...no say it again.” Eric says, his smile is still so hypnotizing, Rudyard had gone too long without it, “Come on…just one more time and I’ll leave I promise. “

“No!” Rudyard says, he doesn’t find it in himself to snap like he usually would, not with Chapman looking at him like that, not while he was feeling like a fool, like he would say anything to- 

“I’ll leave, look I’m stepping away.” 

“I said you...you look like it.” harmless, as compliments went. Were they really so rare to warrant that elation on Chapman’s face? And why wasn’t he leaving?!

No, in fact Chapman was doing the opposite of leaving, he was close enough to touch, breath warm and sweet fanned Rudyard’s lips, “Look like what? I heard you, you said with a body like mine I look like it,” not a smear of chocolate on those teeth as he smiled, “You complimented me, Rudyard,” he sweeps the fingers of his right hand into his blond hair and Rudyard can’t help but follow the motion, he stumbles back and finds himself backed into the wall, the calendar an inch above his head. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Chapman says, “Let me repay you,” 

They don’t touch, they never touch but Rudyard has to hold his palms against Chapman’s chest to stop him from getting closer, but Chapman’s breath is warm against his ear, “I like your lab coats, the labels are cute, does anyone tell you that?” 

“No…” Rudyard whispers, what was going on? He was supposed to be leaving! Also his shirt is so thin, his chest was...hard. It made him feel weird, touching him, being close like this...

“And your hair smells, sweet, and when you walk by me my mouth tastes like buttercream.” 

Rudyard shoves and Chapman stumbles back, “Sorry, I’m sorry…” he says, “I had to let you know Rudyard,” he says, “I don’t know why you just…” he gives him a hungry look and Rudyard throws one of the brownies at him, “Out! Get out!” his heart is pounding in his chest, Chapman is laughing and when the door closes Rudyard washes the chocolate off of his fingers. 

Harassment! It was sexual harassment, he would report him for this behavior, for making him feel...feel like this. 

Rudyard gathered up the unopened packages, leftover brownies and stuffed them into his garbage can. As he did, one of the bags burst and he saw the stack of napkins sticking out. What a surprise, Chapman was also a wastrel.

He stood there staring at the pink cardboard mess in silence, chest faintly throbbing. 

Buttercream? How ridiculous.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rudyard is forced to acknowledge his attachments. 
> 
> Trigger warning suicide.

A/N HI! Trigger warning: suicide, mentions of suicide victim. 

There were ligature marks on his throat, the rope used was wrapped in plastic being sorted with the rest of the items found on his person and in the hotel room. 

The rest of his body was untouched, unmarked. He’d been handsome while living, no doubt, the shade of blonde in his hair came from a bottle, the roots were growing out a deep auburn color. He was muscular as if he went to the gym regularly, there were calluses on his and shins, likely from boxing or some kind of martial arts training, about 6’2 inches in height. When Rudyard moved the lamp to shine that blinding white line on the pale, drawn face of the corpse he hesitated before using his gloved fingers to open his eyes. 

His pupils were blown wide, motionless, frozen. Georgie was still sorting through his things, and for some reason Rudyard could imagine his driver's license laying on the metal surface of her work station, neatly lined up with his credit cards, any spare change, lottery tickets, the image of a smiling man, maybe not smiling, maybe it was a shitty picture done at the always packed Piffling DMV in some obscene hour of the morning, and on the lower right it would say Eye Color: Blue. 

It had never bothered him, growing up in a funeral home meant being used to corpses, being used to death. 

The body spoke for itself, it was what Rudyard used to maintain his distance from the person that used to inhabit the meat and bone and muscle laying on his table. If he were capable of looking at him in that way right now, then it was suicide. 

It wasn’t his job to find out why someone who looked like they had everything decided to end their life. He just put a check mark on the cause of death and signed his name on the last page of the report. This was something he did everyday, a new face, a new body, a new cause of death to identify, and neutrality is what brought the right information onto the documents he filled out. 

If that was true, if he hadn’t been scared of a body since his father forced him to watch his grandmother’s embalming when he was six, then why? 

Why did he feel like crying right now? 

Why did he feel like screaming, like climbing onto the metal rack and shaking him, wake up! Please, please wake up- the irrationality of his thoughts came as a shock. Rudyard gripped his tape recorder and turned it off, if he had listened to it he would have found that nothing had been recorded. He’d been staring at the corpse in silence. 

His own movements tugged at the desperation and fear filling his chest, his mind screaming, Chapman, that’s who he looks like. Rationally he knows it’s not him, knows he’s out being a nuisance right now, knows he didn’t hang himself in a motel. The gold blonde of his hair gleaming under the piercing light of the headlamp, the frozen pupil in the center of his blue eyes, the smile lines on the corners of his mouth - 

It wasn’t him. 

But it could have been. 

That was when the truth settled in, it could have been, and one day he might be on this table. Being an FBI agent wasn’t a safe job, in fact it was extremely dangerous and every day there was a chance that the always smiling, bumbling idiot that was Eric Chapman would get shot or stabbed, or killed in the line of duty. 

This young man had a family, devastated no doubt, the lost look on his mother’s face when she came to identify the body, the sheer absolute pain...

He would feel that, if something happened to Eric. 

It was an undeniable truth, and it settled in him like a heavy weight upon his chest, that despite his inherent dislike of the man, the thought that he should end up on this table provoked such a strong emotional reaction that it contradicted everything Rudyard had forced himself to feel and think about Eric. 

He couldn’t bear the thought of losing him and unable to stare at the body anymore he slid the white sheet over the man’s body and inhaled shakily.

He took off his gloves and washed his hands, he warmed the water this time, washing his face. As he stared down at the bottom of the sink, at the mouth of the drain, deep and black, empty like his eyes. 

There was a sudden twisting of the doorknob but Rudyard wasn’t startled, he found he was exhausted, perhaps leaving the office for a bit was a good idea. Take a breather. 

The door opened, “He’s busy, I said!” 

“He’s never too busy for me Georgie!” 

Rudyard looked and saw both Georgie and Chapman in the doorway, “Tried to stop him sir but he won’t listen!” she kicked Eric Chapman in the shin causing him to stumble into the office with a sharp gasp, “Georgie ow!” he cried, there was the usual gift in his hand, “Be nicer to me i’m hurt!” He says leaning over and rubbing his shin with…

His bandaged hand. 

“You’re the only one who wears a cast for a papercut, Chapman!” Georgie says, “Try harder next time!” the phone rings in the other room, “Damn, sorry boss!” she says, and with one last withering glare in Chapman’s direction she slams the door, barely missing his fingers. 

Rudyard doesn’t know if he ran or not, all his brain registered was Chapman was hurt. The man was talking, of course because he never shut up. Rudyard kept trying to grab his hand but he just kept going, he dropped the snacks on the desk and then he walked around it and gave Madeline her share. Thankfully that was the perfect place to corner him, Rudyard finally caught his hand, the bandages were clean, clipped together with small metal clasps, the tips of his fingers were clean, it wasn’t a cast, but a thick set of bandages wrapped around his hand. 

“Not a papercut,” Chapman says, “Bit of a scuffle last night,” he says his voice is soft. 

Rudyard can’t stop staring at the bandage, “What happened?” 

“Oh, just...there was a hostage situation at one of the banks last night and Jerry handled it. He’s fine, as always. I got the gunman, another notch in the belt,” he’s grinning, the idiot, “And well, I didn't see he wasn’t alone. There was a knife, I grabbed it by the blade, pretty stupid I know but if I hadn’t- “ 

“You would have died.” Rudyard finds himself saying, he can’t bear the thought. 

Eric Chapman has the gall to laugh again, as if it were some joke, something that was just another story to tell at the bar. 

“But I didn’t and besides, it’s a small price for…” he says, voice suddenly serious, “Rudyard, you’re awfully quiet today are you okay?” 

Rudyard stops lingering, tries to shake off the swirling storm of emotions running through him, he steps back, “You should go.” 

Yes, if he leaves than Rudyard can think, he can leave this stuffy room and think. Then he looks up, and finds Eric Chapman looking at him. Not the pale, drawn face of the boy under the sheet, there wasn’t anything on his neck, and his eyes, his beautiful eyes were tired, he looked like he’d been through a lot. 

“Sorry, pain meds are really strong, I just had to get out of the office. You mind if I sit in your chair?” 

“You should go.” Rudyard says again, no he couldn’t sit in his chair. No he couldn’t look tired, or deal with hostage situations or get hurt...it simply wouldn’t do. 

This pain that thrummed through every inch of his body was unacceptable, Rudyard’s voice was shaking, “Listen here…” he says, “Get out of my office, don’t come back-” 

Chapman looked confused, “Why? Are you mad at me?” he says it softly, weakly, “Come on Rudyard, I’ve had a long night, I just want to rest a little, just give me a... “

“No!” Damn it all his eyes burned and he felt cold tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. His chest was tight, he needed Chapman to leave now! Leave so he couldn’t see this raw, horrifying agony ripping through him. 

Dead. he would have been dead last night if one thing had gone wrong. 

“Hey calm down,” he reaches toward him with his hands, the white of the bandage flashed in his view and Rudyard staggered back violently turning to go open the door and force Georgie to kick him out. 

In his fervor he trips over the medical table and falls over his hand grasping onto the first thing in front of him which was the white sheet on the body tray, it slid off easily and Rudyard staggered to his feet gripping the sheet, he saw the body again and finally his tears spilled freely. 

“What’s going on? Do you know h-” Chapman had walked over to him and must have seen the body. He was utterly silent. 

Rudyard’s shoulders were trembling, sobs being held back the only sound was his trembling breaths. Eric Chapman walked around him slowly and pried the sheet out of his fingers. He then covered the body. For a moment he stood still, and he went to where Rudyard was, “Oh," he says, “He even looks like...well, I won’t say it. Your reaction says it all.” he exhales, “I’m sorry I scared you,” He says softly, and Rudyard feels like a fool for all of it, it clearly wasn’t him, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He wiped roughly at his eyes trying to stop them from leaking tears. This was humiliating enough! 

“I’m sorry I got hurt,” he says, and he smiles patiently, as if Rudyard were a crying child, “But I’m alive, I’m alive and well.” he continued to talk, as always incessantly talking, “It hurts a lot you know, that’s why I came here. I was supposed to go to a bunch of meetings today but I ditched Jerry to come and see you, my hand hurts so much Rudyard, I hate it, I hate being in pain, and it was a stupid mistake but I fought as hard as I could, thought about…” his voice is hesitant, “Well, I wanted to get rejected by you again I guess, have you look at me with that pinchy face...throw food at me, all of it. I…” he stops talking, straightens up and Rudyard takes hold of his hand, “P-Painkillers,” he says softly, “Take your damn painkillers.” 

“I did, last night. But I hate the way they make me feel, dizzy, miserable.” 

Rudyard lifts his hand and presses his lips to the bandages, there's a sudden sharp gasp that escapes Eric Chapman’s mouth. A sound he’d never heard, but Rudyard just wanted to feel close to him, yet all he could do was sniffle and kiss the bandages. 

“You’re gonna kiss it better?” Eric says, stepping closer, he leans over, “Rudyard?” 

Seconds turned into moments and blurred into one, his eyes were cold and wet, he looked into Eric Chapman’s eyes, saw the curiosity, the delight in them and then he was close enough that Rudyard could see those flecks of green in the ocean of his eyes. His mind was pleasantly blank as he closed those last few inches between them, settling his dry lips against Eric’s soft mouth, maybe he’d been looking for proof, proof he was still here, still warm and alive. Gods, he was very much alive, and Rudyard lingered in that feeling of relief and the warmth pooling in the pit of his stomach. 

They stood like that for what felt like eternity, Rudyard opened his eyes and pulled his head back, Eric looked dazed, and Rudyard felt foolish, “I should…” the dread, the ache in his chest seemed to dissipate, and it had yet to register in his brain that he’d just kissed Eric Chapman. 

He just kissed Eric Chapman. 

All those smiles, countless cakes, ridiculous proposals for dinner and a movie- it was cheesy and foolish and-

And he wanted more. It was like all of his doubts had been washed away, leaving him raw and vulnerable, he longed for more. 

Eric hadn’t moved, he was stock still, lips still pursed, he leaned back, letting out a low laugh, “Wow...wow, that...Rudyard, I’m sorry I don’t mean to take up all your time I’ll just-” he turns and starts to walk to the door, and then he stops, he stops and he comes back wordlessly he grabs Rudyard pulling him up against his chest kissing him again. It’s more this time, so much more, his touch hot and lingering, his kiss is fierce and filled with need. Rudyard can barely keep up, he moans into it, wrapping his arms around Eric’s neck, opening his mouth giving in to the demands of his tongue, he’s breathless and Eric’s hands slide down his back grabbing under his lab coat and lifting him up. Rudyard’s legs wrap around his hips almost naturally and he runs his fingers through Eric’s hair with one hand, the other digging into his button down shirt to feel him, the heat of his skin. There’s the sound of something crashing to the floor, as Rudyard is perched on his desk. 

God, what were they doing? This was madness complete madness. Pleasure wracked Rudyard’s body in ways he’d never experienced. Nobody had ever touched him like this, caressed him, the sensations were overwhelming, and after his first kiss earlier his brain was fuzzy from how passionate it was now, as he clumsily tried to keep up with Eric’s talented mouth, to the hand under his coat kneading his ass, to the hard on in Eric’s pants rubbing up against his own. It was too much, he pulled back from the kiss breathless, mindless, “Chapman…” he breathes, his lips are sore, his moans were no longer being muffled by Eric’s kiss as he started to mouth the side of his neck, “So good...So good for me, Rudyard.” he says between kisses, he nudges the collar of Rudyard’s shirt and and bites down with his teeth sucking at the tender flesh. Rudyard doesn’t hear himself, he’s never been in a situation like this to know if he’s being too loud, all he knows is sensation, and god he’s as weak to this as he is to chocolate. 

That is when the phone on his desk starts ringing. 

Rudyard scrambles like a cat in a tub full of cold water, Chapman pulls off of him staggering back and Rudyard answers the phone. The office was calling for Chapman, saying he wasn’t allowed to just skip meetings. 

Rudyard stared at Eric in silence, “Ah...he’s...he’s not here.” he says softly, “But I’ll pass the message along to anyone who might have seen him.” 

Jerry didn’t sound happy, but he relented, “Fine, appreciate the help.”

“Of course,” Rudyard says, “Thank you.” 

He puts the phone into the receiver and stares at it for an insurmountable amount of time. 

“The office is looking for you.” he says, his voice is scratchy, something inside him shrivels in shame from it. 

He looks at Eric Chapman and feels a bit better for it, after all, none of the buttons of his shirt were broken at least. 

Eric Chapman looked very indecent, his usual carefully styled tousled hair was thoroughly ruffled, and his face was flushed, mouth red like he’d been well and thoroughly devoured. He looked a right mess. 

Rudyard did that. 

“I suppose I should...I should go right?” he says, asking the question seemingly to nobody at all, he turns toward the door, and when he reaches it he turns around again, “Sorry...about the mess.”

The door opens and closes and Rudyard turns to the mess. Seeing his favorite cupcakes on the floor, frosting smeared about, what a shame- 

Then the door opened again and slammed closed Rudyard is pulled up, soundly kissed again, and before he can get pulled into it Chapman takes it away, gazing at him earnestly, “Your number Rudyard, give me your number….” he stares at Chapman in blank shock, he can’t reply, his brain is switched off, his lips are still pursed, brain completely flatlined. 

“Fine, fine I’ll just-...I’ll give you mine okay?” he grabs a pen off of the desk and scribbles his cellphone number into the skin of Rudyard’s palm. 

“Call me, Rudyard,” he says softly, “Call me.” 

In seconds, Eric Chapman had come in like a swirling tornado and he was left in his wake. But the number on his palm could have been seared into his skin. He was staring at the black ink, the way it spread slightly as it dried. 

Clean the office, he whispers to himself, just clean up the mess. If he calls Eric Chapman then he calls Eric Chapman. It was absurdly arrogant of him to presume he’d call just because of a few kisses. Just because he touched him, bit him and- 

And messed up his office, look at that. Rudyard picked up his papers and set them on the desk. Thank god he didn’t have carpet, cleaning frosting off of carpet would have been a huge pain. 

Thinking back though, perhaps it might have been a small price to pay. 

He checked one of the paper bags wondering if there was anything he could save and the usual thick pile of napkins poured out, must have been around twenty of them stacked in there alone, and when he stared at them his chest started to ache fiercely. 

On every single napkin, handwritten in pen, was Eric Chapman’s phone number. 


End file.
